Page 44 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

“You naughty girl.” His baritone melted my heart.

I shut my eyes the moment he rushed at my lips, kissing them with so much fervency. This prompted me to reciprocate the gesture with the same energy, and soon, we were both swooning in a heated passion.

His tongue was twirling in my mouth and mine in his while he simultaneously fingered me with rapid movements.

All I wanted was his cock, and as soon as he plunged it into me, a gasp escaped from my lips. Standing on one foot with the other hanging above his arm, he rammed into me without holding back. His words were laced with possessiveness as he claimed ownership of my body.

Fuck. It felt good having him inside me after so long. I’d honestly missed him; I’d been really starving, and now I couldn’t curtail my moans.

His huge cock was working its magic, its length traveling deep inside my wet pussy while I was pressed forward against the wall. With a handful of my hair, he pulled in a way that was both gentle and rough at the same time.

The sound of his groin slapping against my ass was so hot that it got me wanting more hits. His pull on my hair hurt a little, but I liked the sweet pain that came with it. His thrusts were rough and hard—a direct contrast to the last time we’d fucked. Maybe he was fucking me angrily. Yes, he was.

I had pissed him off by making out with that random guy, and now the rage from his jealousy was the fuel burning his drive. It was almost like he was punishing me for being such a naughty girl.

It was rough sex, and frankly speaking, I didn’t care about the motive behind this. I was basking in the euphoria of this punishment; the anger was mutual, and I just wanted him to fuck me.

My warm pussy was filled with his cum, and he pushed deeply into me with heavy groans. Seconds later, he pulled out and stepped backward away from me.

Just like that, all that attitude of his that I’d ignored came rushing back into my head. The moment of bliss was over, and the hatred was sinking in again. I was satisfied, and my senses had returned; I could think straight now.

I picked up my panties and slipped into them, adjusting my dress as I felt his gaze on me. Without a word, I walked away and headed to the door; then, I took one last look at him.

He was standing there, watching me in silence, his hands buckling his belt.

The sex was great, and I enjoyed it, but this was going to be the last time I’d ever let it happen again. I hoped that he had his fun because he wouldn’t get that with me ever again. I was done with him, and this time, I meant it.

Vlad was toxic, and I deserved better; I deserved better than being treated like trash after sex. Yes, he was a good lover who made me feel things I’d never felt before, but I was obviously not the only woman he’d made feel that way. He’d fucked me and dumped me, then got himself another woman. As though that wasn’t enough, he still had the guts to get upset over seeing me with another guy.

He didn’t even bother trying to hide his discomfort; no, he went ahead and caused a scene, breaking the poor boy’s nose with a single punch. He was a jealous man with anger issues. Big red flag. Hell no!

I couldn’t deal with that. Truly, I was done with Vlad.

The door squeaked open at my pull, and I walked out, slamming it shut behind me. Heading down the steps, I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. My mind was made up; staying away was a good idea. It felt peaceful, and with the way I left him, I’d say we were even now. I smirked.

_________

It had already been a few days since our last encounter at the club—a few days of healing and constant reevaluation.

Yes, a part of me was having a rethink on the decision I had made, and this was because I’d been getting text messages from an unknown number, and the content of the messages indicated that they were from Vlad.

It had been a difficult battle, trying to convince the voices in my head that I was done with him. The inner struggle with this concept had been quite challenging, but I didn’t want to overthink things. My mind was made up already.

Vlad had hurt me, and this was simply a coping mechanism for me.

It was a new day, and I was seated at the table in my room, surfing the internet. I’d just gotten off the phone with Fiona not long ago, and although she supported my decision, I could tell that she didn’t trust my judgment. We talked about a couple of other things since I didn’t want to dwell on the ‘V’ subject, as Fiona tagged it.

Since the club, she’d been referring to him as you-know-who. I found it hilarious but never showed it. Vlad, a name that once made my body shiver and my heart skip a beat, now sounded a lot like Voldemort in my ears, hence the reason she stopped saying his name.

I was trying not to think about h, but nothing I attempted to do to distract myself from this gnawing situation worked.

A funny video was playing on the screen of my laptop but I just sat there, watching it but missing out on the humor.

I buried my face in my palms, letting out a frustrated raspberry at my inability to think straight. Hell, I couldn’t even enjoy a fucking funny video about hilarious cats, and that shit always cracked me up.

My phone chimed, and another text came in.

Don’t bother checking. It’s definitely him, a voice said to me.

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